


Visits

by 0ohjeezrick



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: C137cest, Drinking to Cope, Hand Jobs, Heavy Drinking, Incest, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, slight praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 21:58:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16457822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0ohjeezrick/pseuds/0ohjeezrick
Summary: Rick always visited at night, needing pieces of him. The first time it happened was quick, Rick just came in and sat on the edge of his bed.





	Visits

Rick always visited at night, needing pieces of him. The first time it happened was quick, Rick just came in and sat on the edge of his bed, threw back a couple large gulps of some alcoholic, alien liquid and then got up and left. Rick had done it before, had barged into Morty's room, loud and drunk and demanding that Morty accompany him to some distant planet for some distant reason. But the first time was the first time because it was different from all those other loud, drunk, barging nights. It was the first time because it was quiet. Rick had eased the teen's door open in deliberate silence, walked to the bed with calm footing, sat perched on the edge of the mattress without announcing himself, like he didn't want Morty to know he was there. 

Morty laid still waiting for him to speak but he never did, instead he heard the distinct metallic sound of liquid sloshing in a flask and the dull gulp of it sliding down his grandfather's throat. The old man leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and heaved a sigh. The sound seemed intimate to Morty in an odd way. He tried to recall a time before where he had heard Rick take an audible breath. Obviously the man breathed, but witnessing it, taking note of it, being allowed to hear something so innocuous as a sigh from Rick's mouth seemed unmistakably human, and wrong. It felt like trespassing to Morty. Then the old man rose and exited, all just as silent as he had entered, and Morty spent the rest of the night doing what he always did—tried not to put too much thought behind his grandfather's actions.

The second time, Morty didn't wake to hear Rick enter his room. He just woke up to see Rick sitting on the edge of his bed, lowering a bottle down from taking a swig. Morty tried to think of something to say that didn't sound stupid but Rick cut him off by placing a hand on his leg. The knee, the thigh, the hip bone which had always been a sensitive place for Morty. Usually it was ticklish, it caused him to laugh and kick uncontrollably but something was different about this situation. It wasn't ticklish it was...enthralling. Morty could feel heat on his cheeks, crawling up to his ears and down to his chest. It was hard to focus. Morty's brain was being pulled in several directions at once but the one thought that rose above the swarm was how stupid he must have looked to Rick. He stumbled over several sentence starters before chancing a glance up only to discover that Rick wasn't looking at him at all. Rick was staring expressionless at the floor of Morty's room as he moved his hand to stroke the teen's forming erection.

Whatever sentence Morty had been trying to start was sucked back into his lungs as he felt his grandfather's hand wrap tight around him. Morty didn't know how to feel. It wasn't like he'd never thought of this, but any thought that began culminating was instantly pushed to the back of his mind, buried deep beneath years of quickly fading general education that had gone unused since his grandfather's arrival in his life. A high-five where he noticed, too acutely, the callused roughness of Rick's hand, the way his lips pursed whenever he took a drink from his flask, pushed aside, buried deep. But now Rick was digging it all up, pulling it out of him—softly squeezing and jerking it out of him. Morty could feel it building in his lower abdomen, he knew he was close, he'd done it before on quiet afternoons when the house was empty. He chanced a groan, wanting to hear what it sounded like, wanting to see how his grandfather would react. Rick glared at the floor then, and Morty realized his mistake.

This encounter was meant to be silent, unspoken, a secret that was nonexistent outside of this moment. Before Morty realized it, he was cuming and his hands flew to his mouth to keep a sob from ripping past his lips. Rick retracted his hand and sat for a moment before taking another longer gulp from the bottle he was holding with his other hand. Then he got up and left the room in silence, always in silence. Morty sat sobbing into his hands until the warm mess on his lower abdomen began to turn cold and unpleasant. He didn’t understand why it was so important to him, that Rick look at him, really see him. 

Rick had always written Morty off, had never given him his full attention no matter how much the boy had tried desperately to earn it. He just thought that maybe it would be different when Rick was having sex or, in this case, engaging in sexual behavior. It couldn’t really be called sex, what’d just happened. Every time Morty had allowed himself a flash of thought about it, Rick was attentive, giving. Morty wanted that softness from Rick so bad, even the idea left him breathless. The thought of Rick being gentle with him, ghosting rough fingers over his tender skin, whispering in his ear that he was so good—such a _good boy_. 

Morty was hard again and he decided to tend to it as if his grandfather had never left the room. As if Rick had looked down at him, right into his eyes and squeezed him—Morty couldn’t do it. He was going soft just thinking about Rick staring at him. It wasn’t in the way Morty wanted. In his mind, Rick stared at him with the same scowl he had aimed at the floor during their encounter. Except before, the scowl was directionless. In Morty’s mind though, Rick’s scowl was pointed directly at him, boring into his own eyes that were round with guilt and insecurity. It was a look that made Morty feel small, worthless. It was exactly how Morty felt he should be looked at.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm o-ohjeezrick on tumblr and I haven't participated in the fandom in awhile and i've never written a fic for it but i found this little blurb i wrote awhile back and decided why not lol enjoy i guess. prob won't write more unless people want more. this isn't a comeback, i'm just idk. i'm just posting this cuz i feel like i need to.


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